


Respite

by Tempest2004



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Maybe a little out of character, Possible Spoilers, inspired by a Let's Play, taking a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tempest2004/pseuds/Tempest2004
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles Upshur just escaped Rick Trager and made his way to the shed. There he takes a few moments to breath. Short fic, since there wasn't much to write with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a Let's Play I'm watching of Outlast by my favorite LPer. I admit, Miles is likely out of character, but I like it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Miles stepped out of the shed into the pouring rain and paused for a moment to let the rain wash the blood off his face and body. He even hung his camera on his belt long enough to try and scrub some of the blood off his hands. He stepped back to where he was under the cover of the mechanical shed and just stuck his hands out, letting the faint light behind him illuminate his hands as he tried to get them clean.

"It's not coming off." he muttered to himself, more upset about that than anything else. This, he felt, was his chance at a respite. He'd stuck a large set of metal shelves in front of the door towards the inside of the building and he would lock the metal door from the outside, so he wouldn't be gotten from that side. Miles took a breath and backed into the shed, closing the door and locking it from the outside. He searched his pockets, fumbling for a candy bar he knew he'd brought. His fingers fumbled as he tried to open the wrapper. With a grunt of frustration, he grabbed one end of the wrapper in his teeth and tore at the end with his good hand. It came open and Miles scarfed it down before he could stop himself. His stomach roiled from the sudden influx of food and he sat down against the wall, jacket wrapped around him, waiting for his stomach to settle down. The rain continued and slowly his stomach settled down.

He leaned his head back against the wall and let his eyes slip shut. The rain was soothing and his body ached from getting tossed around and running for his life. Exhaustion made his limbs heavy and the need to stretch out grew more and more insistent. Miles opened his eyes and looked around. He got up and wearily walked over to the shelves and searched for something, anything he could possibly lay down on. He found an old tarp and walked out to the center of the shed under the light and spread the tarp out. After a moments consideration he moved the tarp over and pulled it over him. It wasn't as warm as a blanket, but it helped hold in body heat, so Miles pillowed his head on his arm and closed his eyes.

Somehow he knew that he wouldn't make it out alive. That there would be no Pulitzer for him. No rest of his life.

Miles Upshur knew that he was going to die, but not right now. Right now he was safe and he was going to rest as much as he could in the safety of light and brick and rebar.


End file.
